


Accidents

by KateKintail



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: M/M, Watersports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-07
Updated: 2012-10-07
Packaged: 2018-03-18 06:14:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3559106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KateKintail/pseuds/KateKintail
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spike casually lifted the latch on the seatbelt and rose to his feet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Accidents

“Stretching my legs.” Spike casually lifted the latch on the seatbelt and rose to his feet. 

He moved swiftly, but he wasn’t a foot down the aisle when a flight attendant appeared directly in front of him, as though by magic. “I’m sorry, sir. The fasten seatbelt sign is on. You’ll need to return to your seat.” 

Spike turned on the charm. “Right, love. Just need to visit the—”

“As soon as it’s safe, we’ll turn off the sign and you can move about the cabin. Until then, I need you to return to your seat.” She blocked the aisle so he couldn’t move past. 

With no choice but to return to his seat, Spike retreated. Slumping down beside Angel. He fastened his seatbelt again, realized it was too tight, and readjusted it. 

“You all right, Spike?”

“Sure.” Angel had the window seat, and Spike had nothing to pay attention to apart from the seatback in front of him or the sparsely populated plane cabin. He cast his gaze around, trying to find something to focus on.

“Really? Because it looks to me like maybe you need to use the restroom.”

Spike gritted his teeth. His attempt to be casual and relaxed didn’t seem to be fooling Angel. “I’m plenty rested, thanks.” But he glanced up at the sign above his seat of the two little hands holding the fastened seatbelt. And he glanced down the aisle to see the bathroom with the green “vacant” sign lit up. He shifted a little in longing. 

Angel smiled at him until Spike met his gaze. And then the smile grew into a grin. “Oh yeah. You need to piss. I knew it.”

“Shut up!” Spike hissed quietly. If he had to endure teasing, the least Angel could do was keep quiet. How had he guessed, anyway?

“I told you to go earlier before the meal service, didn’t I?”

“I didn’t have to go then.” 

“Sure you did.” That grin was so self-assured, almost cocky. “I could tell.” Definitely cocky. “And then I told you to go after that. But you were too into the movie. And now look at you…”

Angel was such a bastard. Spike balled his hands into fists around a seatbelt that suddenly felt too tight again. Maybe it was the way he was sitting or maybe he was just imagining his bladder growing fuller, pressing against the strap and metal holding him down. “After not needing to pee for over a hundred years, I’m a little rusty at remembering.”

“That’s why you should have listened to me.”

Spike grimaced. Ever since the prophecy had been split between them, making them both half human and half vampire, Angel had pretended he knew best. It was just like it had been after William had been sired. Angelus had always told him what to do and when to do it. Back then, Spike had obeyed. He hadn’t known any better. And Angelus was older and wiser, more experienced at being a vampire. But Angel was just as new to this strange half state as he was. 

They were figuring it out together. Realizing just how long they could stay out in direct sunlight. Realizing how much animal blood they needed and how much real food to stay strong. Realizing they actually needed to do things like breathe and sleep and pee. 

“You never listen to me anymore.” The grin was gone, as if Spike had just imagined it. Angel looked cross now. “And now look where it’s got you.”

Right. It had gotten him just short of squirming in his damn seat. The plane rocked slightly from turbulence, and Spike felt every little bump and jolt magnified in his bladder. He gripped himself tightly, bouncing in his seat now that his seatbelt was loose. Pretty soon, they were going to hit an air pocket and he was going to start squirting and be unable to stop it. Spike knew Angel was glaring disapprovingly at him. And Spike was completely out of options. 

He had to piss. A bottle of water. Coke with the meal. And a couple of those little bottles of gin. Not to mention all he’d had to drink before they’d gotten on the plane. He could feel it all now settling low and getting bounced around by the plane.

“Try to sleep. It’ll make the time pass quicker. We’re only an hour from landing, unless the turbulence slowed us down.”

Sleeping seemed like idiotic advice. No one could sleep with such a pan in their belly, such a pressing need to urinate, to go and go and go and, likely, never stop. No one could sleep with the plane jolting about either. Angel’s advice was useless. And if he didn’t try something else soon, he was going to wet himself thoroughly.

“Fuck it,” Spike muttered. He glanced around the cabin. Not a single flight attendant in sight. “I’m going for it.” He sprung up and dashed for the toilet. Turbulence made the walk hard—sending him leaning into the seats on one side of the aisle and then the other. Each step shook him, and he felt it in his belly. If he made it to the loo dry, he would consider it a great success. 

He didn’t make it halfway there, but not because of the pee. “Sir, you’re going to need to stay in your seat.”

Just short of grabbing himself through his pants to show his need, Spike tried to explain with all the charm he could. “Look, love, I know you’ve gotta do your job. And you’re doing quite—”

“It’s not safe for you or your fellow passengers. You’re going to need to sit down. Do I need to get the air marshal?” 

Spike hesitated, wondering if he could simply push her into the seats and get to the bathroom. But he felt Angel’s hand on his shoulder. “No need to call anyone. He’ll sit down.” Spike felt himself turned and marched back to their row. But Angel forced him to go in first, sitting in the window seat. The flight attendant stood watch until they’d both fastened their seatbelts. 

When she was gone, Spike pitched forward, face into the back of the empty seat in front of him, teeth clenched, cheeks flushed. “Damn it, Angel, I can’t hold it much longer…” 

“I know.” He still didn’t sound happy about it, but he did hold out a blue airline blanket. “Slide this under you and fold it around your crotch.” 

Spike stared at him. 

“Just in case. Come on, Spike. Just listen to me for once, would you?” 

Spike felt the blood pumping through him from his last thermos full rushing right to his face. Through clenched teeth, he hissed, “I’m not going to have an accident here. I’ve never had an accident.” 

Angel pushed the blanket into his stomach and Spike whimpered, gripping himself again. They hit another bump and Spike wrapped the blanket around his crotch. Just in case. As if wanting to take the option, his bladder tweaked, urine trying to rush downward and out. Spike pressed the blanket harder against his crotch. He had to keep it in. His knuckles went white, hands shaking, he succeeded just barely. “Oh fuck! Fuck fuck fuck.” His whisper was almost silent, voice breaking.

“Here.” Angel draped the blanket over Spike’s lap, hiding evidence of what Spike was doing. Then he slid his hand under both blankets and wrapped his hand around Spike’s cock. 

Spike’s eyes widened. Angel’s grip was perfect, putting pressure exactly where it needed to be. For a second, it almost didn’t feel like he needed to pee at all anymore. Grateful and relieved, Spike relaxed. Too much. 

A spurt of piss escaped. Spike squirmed desperately. He thrust forward, pressing against Angel’s warm palm and the blankets. Warmth. A weak heartbeat. Things he shared with Angel. 

“Spike,” Angel whispered, leaning as close as he could while staying in his seat with his seatbelt on. Spike could feel his warm breath, soft and comforting. “I don’t want to see you hurt yourself. Just let go.” 

Spike held his breath, shaking his head. He wasn’t some weakling; not any more. “I don’t have accidents!”

Angel tilted his head, hair brushing Spike’s cheek. “It’s not an accident if you do it on purpose. Trust me.”

Spike started peeing, even as the last few words made their way out of Angel’s mouth. Piss flowed steadily, soaking into the many layers of folded blanket. His crotch being surrounded by wet warmth made it utterly impossible to stop, even if he’d wanted to. Which, he found suddenly, he didn’t want to do. The warmth travelled to his waist and down below to his balls and arse where the blanket on his seat stopped. The more he peed, the more relieved he felt. Unburdening. Unleashing. Giving in. And giving himself up to Angel. He turned his head, kissing Angel in gratitude. 

Angel still held the blankets against Spike, determined not to let a single drop escape. But his breathing was fast now—faster than Spike had ever known it to be. And his cheeks were red, too. Flushed from embarrassment? From the need to pee as well? Spike couldn’t tell.

“Angel,” Spike whispered. “Are you all right? You don’t have to go to the toilet too, do you?”

He shook his head, and Spike was unsure which question that was for.

Spike wasn’t aware of the flow stopping. Everything was so wet now and he felt so good. He had to concentrate to realize it was over. He leaned back in his seat, basking in the wonderful feeling left from letting it all out. Every last little drop. 

But then Angel tugged the blanket covering his lap, hiding the evidence of what had gone on. Spike tensed, not wanting to be confronted with the visual of his accident, when Angel stopped. He’d only wanted enough to cover his own lap. His hand shot beneath and his eyes closed. Spike watched the movement, guessing the actions of pulling down the zipper, easing his cock out from his pants, and pulling it. It wasn’t about needing to piss then, was it? 

Eyes closed, Angel wouldn’t look at him. But that didn’t stop Spike from placing a kiss on Angel’s lips, brow, cheeks. And Angel, silently, reacted by thrusting forward—not to keep it in but to ease it out. His orgasm was a sudden explosion, his gasp cut off by another kiss of Spike’s, and it didn’t stop until he was just about as messy as Spike was wet. 

They didn’t talk after that. They didn’t even look at each other with understanding expressions. Spike just tilted his head onto Angel’s shoulder and Angel put an arm around Spike to keep him close. He had a feeling Angel hadn’t wanted to reveal that element of himself. But if Angel wanted Spike to trust him so badly, pretty soon he was going to have to admit that he trusted Spike as well. So he didn’t say anything. And both men were left with some semblance of their dignities. 

Warm and comfortable against Angel, Spike started to drift off to sleep. His eyes just happened to glance upward and found that, sometime during that whole production, the seatbelt sign had been switched off.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for ROG community fest for the prompt: Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Angel fandom, Spike/Angel(us). Despite Angel(us) telling him lots of times to go and have a pee, Spike refuses to do so. They're going to be away from any toilets for several hours, and Spike gradually realises he really, really needs to pee. He tries not to let Angel(us) know at first, but eventually it becomes obvious. Angel(us) is cross with him, but also very tolerant, and tried to help his boy not have an accident. However, Spike eventually does wet himself. I'd like Angel(us) to be comforting, but also aroused. A D/s vibe would be great. For this fic, we can decide that vampires pee like normal humans, whether or not that makes biological sense!


End file.
